


Go Big or Go Home

by Control_Room



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alcohol, Betting, Casinos, Drinking, Gambling, Kisses, M/M, Partying, Speakeasies, this is the 1930s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Henry is ready to blow it all on a bit of fun. Luckily, literally, Joey is with him.
Relationships: Joey Drew/Henry Stein
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Go Big or Go Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarieLamb_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieLamb_B/gifts).



Henry’s head spun. 

He drank too much last night, but you know what?

Fuck it.

He smiled, looking over at the other bodies all around. 

The bar was filled with the other studio members, all in various states of hangover. The only person who was not feeling the effects of drunkenness was Joey, who had abstained while even Willy joined in, which was extremely rare, and  _ even  _ Bertrum joined, which was even more rare. Both men liked remaining sober, especially with their past track records, but they had all agreed that this night was one worth celebrating by jamming alcohol into their stomachs. After all, the studio had just made its millionth dollar, millionth  _ profit _ dollar, according to Grant, and in an employee owned studio? All of them millionaires? In this economy? In this time of the year? In this part of the world?

Bottoms up, lads, was how Shawn announced the way to party, and everyone (minus Joey) agreed. Henry had told him, go big or go home, and we made it big. 

Henry felt absolutely great, and he bounded over to his sullen business partner. 

“Let’s go to the casino,” he told him, grinning. Joey stared at him, mouth opening, about to protest. “We’re going. Let’s bring three hundred, and blow it. We fucking deserve it, Joey.”

“I- okay,” Henry was about to bring up another argument when he realized Johan agreed, and it made him grin wider. “But only three hundred. You  _ know _ these p-places are illegal. We can’t bring more than that.”

“Deal!” 

The casino was loud, and colorful, and there were no clocks.

That was a big part of the allure, in Henry’s eyes. Three hundred dollars were turned into plastic, and Henry was certain that it would end up bigger than when they had entered. The lights were brilliant, and he dragged Joey to a poker table, sweeping the field. 

Joey was a more mindful and less boastful player. 

To Henry’s dismay and a blow to his ego, the house kept beating him. Joey looked at the other players, the cards, and then the house.

It was uneven, was what he deduced. Henry did not seem to notice, nor the other players, all too busy cursing their own luck. Joey put his cards on the table, in a way that the lens of his glasses would be thickest, and the color would stand out the most against the cards.

Cheating. The house was cheating, with those stupid sunglasses and dumb smirk. It made Joey’s blood roil. 

Of course they were cheating. They were profiting off of the risqué this occupation held, and cheat because no one would dare report them for fear of losing their little house of freedom. 

Henry’s whiskey was untouched, and Joey hatched a plan in his mind to beat out the crowd. 

To his business partner’s shock, Joey took the shot glass and poured the contents into his mouth, closing his throat to prevent it from slipping too far. Then, in front of these speakeasy folk with his cheeks burning from both the alcohol and the idea of what he was about to do, Joey grabbed Henry by the collar and pulled him into a kiss, deepening it as soon as he was certain Henry would not push him away. The drink passed from his mouth to the animator’s, and Joey could feel all eyes on them. Henry, always so pushy, did exactly what Joey hoped he would do. 

Henry, meanwhile, had not been counting on such loss. He was a good player-- he knew that from a good deal of time trying his hand, formally and casually, so this unlucky streak of losses naturally befuddled him. He could hardly look at the players, let alone Joey, his jaw knotting in thought of how to play his hand. When Joey took his shot glass, he let out some noise of shock, a sentence becoming muddled in his brain in complete surprise. Those words were most likely “What the Hell?”, but that hardly mattered as liquid courage tasting lips pressed firmly to his. Eyes widening, Henry could not help but stare, and smirk. 

This was great. Joey must have seen that he was getting pissed and decided to nip that in the bud. Tongue? Holy hell. Did Joey drink before they left the hotel? Henry did not mind the flow of whiskey, and gladly swallowed it down, turning to push Joey down over the table to kiss him better. Damn the house. Joey was way more fun. Maybe they should just cut their losses and go back to the hotel, sober up, have a talk, and continue  _ this _ if Johan wanted. 

Henry pulled away while licking his lips, still tingling from the booze. Johan was bright red. The sight made Henry smile. 

“Maybe we should go?” he offered shyly, looking away. Henry nodded, still smiling, and helped him off the table. He let his arm up for Joey, and he took it, and their chips from the table. The other players and the dealer were also dark with a flush, grinning from the show they got. Briskly, they made their way to the chip exchange, and Henry, as well as the cashier, blinked when they saw the total being near two thousand. Joey shrugged. “I was lucky.”

They left with their loot, and Johan kept glancing back, but once they were out of sight and earshot, he let out a booming laugh.

Henry looked at him in surprise.

“What happened?”

“I nicked all those chips from the house while the dealer was busy starin’,” Joey informed him quietly, eyes flashing, lips twitching in a grin. “The cards were all m-marked. Swindling swine.”

Henry stared, then laughed as well, hollowly. 

“What’s wrong?”

“So the kiss was just a ploy.”

“Um, I didn’t think,” Joey was flustered. “You’d want one.”

“Joey, you might be perceptive,” Henry groaned, “But you can be a blind fool, too.”

He pulled him into a more loving kiss. 


End file.
